Rewards
by Artemis9
Summary: Jesse finds himself seemingly left by everybody he loves. Out of frustration, he plunges into a situation that might cost his life.


Rewards  
  
Jesse fumbled on his bow tie and studied his appearance in the mirror. Something was still wrong with his hair - it looked like he had walked through a hurricane. Quickly he grabbed a comb and sorted the unruly strands until he looked like a doctor and not like some surfer dude who had been forced into the wrong outfit.  
  
He glanced at his watch. 3:40pm, more than four hours before the celebration started, and still three hours before he had to leave his apartment and drive to Cooper Hall. He would have had the time to change clothes again and eat something, but his nervousness wouldn't let him think of anything like this.  
  
The California Emergency Physicians' ER of the Year Award went to the Community General's Emergency Room, and he was the doctor in charge to receive this award! This wasn't exactly the highest honour for a doctor, but for a young surgeon like him, it was a remarkable achievement. Jesse looked into the mirror again, beaming with pride and excitement. This was his big day, and they'd all be there to share the joy with him. His parents, yes, both of them, and his best friends would come and spend the evening together, when he would receive the honours for the achievements of the Emergency Room that he had so eagerly helped to make the best in California.  
  
He reached into his pocket and pulled the slip of paper out he had prepared for his speech. He read over it although he already knew every single word by heart. It wasn't a long speech - he didn't need many words to express what the award meant to him and the hospital, and he didn't intend to ramble like some other people did when there was a spotlight pointed at them.  
  
The phone rang, and Jesse took the receiver. "Hello?" he said cheerfully.  
  
"Hello Jesse", a female voice answered.  
  
"Mom!"  
  
"Yes, it's me. Listen, there's something I have to tell you. I'm really stuck here with all this work, and my car broke down only two hours ago."  
  
The smile on Jesse's face faded. "You mean you're still in Minnesota?"  
  
"Yes, I'm sorry. I don't know if I'll make it to the awarding. But either way, I'll certainly be there next time your work is honoured like this. I'm very proud of you."  
  
"Yes. Thanks. So - I guess I'll see you next time", Jesse said sadly.  
  
"Again, I'm sorry", his mother said.  
  
"Never mind", Jesse replied. "It wasn't that important." His disappointment was obvious, but he tried not to sound too hurt. "See you soon."  
  
"Yes, bye."  
  
He hung up and stared at his reflection in the mirror. So much for his parents and friends gathered to witness the first real proof that somebody paid attention to his work.  
  
His mother's phone call had made the largest part of the excitement vanish in an instant. With a sigh, he loosened the bow tie and placed it on the table, took his jacket off and went into the kitchen. He returned to the living room with two sandwiches and a glass of water, dropped on the couch and switched on the TV set.  
  
Still brooding over the not very promising beginning of the evening, he chewed on his sandwiches, trying to get into his old good mood again. Just when the pleasant tingling feeling in his stomach returned, the phone rang again.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Hi Jesse, it's Amanda. Uh, I hate to tell you this, but I'm down in the path lab, and they just brought three corpses I have to examine."  
  
"Oh no", Jesse moaned. "Can't they wait until tomorrow? They won't run away."  
  
"They won't, but the killer might. The police need the results of the autopsies as soon as possible. I'm really sorry, Jesse, but I won't be able to come over."  
  
"Yeah, they're all sorry today", Jesse growled.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Oh, nothing. So there's no chance you could come to the celebration?"  
  
"Sad to say this, but no. But maybe Mark can bring his video camera. He can record everything, and we watch it tomorrow in the afternoon."  
  
Jesse sighed. "I'll ask him. Have a nice night."  
  
"Jess, I'm really -"  
  
"Sorry, I know. Don't worry, I'll survive it." Jesse hung up and gazed at the telephone. Now that wasn't what he considered the prelude to a great evening. He pondered if he had been too harsh towards Amanda, but his disappointment was too big. His circle of friends for tonight had shrunk considerably already, and all the nice pictures he had had in mind started to burst like soap bubbles.  
  
With an angry sound, he picked up the receiver again and dialled the number of the beach house. Steve answered the phone.  
  
"Hey Steve", Jesse said. "Is Mark at home?"  
  
After a short pause, Steve replied, "oh, didn't he tell you?"  
  
"Tell me what?"  
  
"He said he'd call you up."  
  
"But what did he want to tell me?" Jesse asked impatiently.  
  
"He's been called to the hospital. A doctor didn't show up for an urgent surgery, and he took his place."  
  
Jesse considered banging his head to the wall, but then only grinded his teeth. "When did he leave, and when will he be back?"  
  
"He went about an hour ago, and he said something about six hours. You see, maybe he'll make it, even if he'll be a bit late."  
  
Jesse shook his head. This couldn't be true. "And what about you? Any important appointments that could keep you from coming?"  
  
"No, of course not. We'll have a great evening, and - oh, wait a minute. I have a call on the cell phone."  
  
For a few seconds, Jesse heard unintelligible murmur, and then Steve got back to him. "Bad news", he said. "This was Captain Newman. We have an urgent briefing as we have new information about a serial killer we've been hunting for weeks. But hey, we have almost four hours till the show starts. Don't worry, I'll be there in time, and appropriately dressed."  
  
"I'd be glad if you could."  
  
"You sound depressed. Is there anything wrong?"  
  
Jesse shook his head, as if Steve could see the gesture over the phone. "Everything's fine."  
  
"Okay", came Steve's relieved answer. "Even if Dad and I don't make it, you'll still have Amanda and your parents joining you."  
  
Jesse didn't bother replying to this. He simply answered a "yes, see you then", and hung up.  
  
This was a disaster. Why couldn't the evening that had started out so well simply run as smoothly as he had imagined?  
  
A nervous chuckle escaped him. It was the phone. Yes, it had to be the phone. There was some weird curse lying on the line, making every call the worst it could be.  
  
Now it looked like the only person being at the celebration with him would be his father. At least he had promised to come - it had been quite a time since they had last met. Jesse was looking forward to seeing his dad again. Now that he didn't have to hide his identity from his son any longer, Dane Travis would certainly have a lot to tell about his work.  
  
The doorbell rang, and Jesse went to open the door.  
  
A UPS deliverer stood outside, greeting him with a nod of his head. "Dr. Travis?" he asked.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I have an urgent delivery for you. Would you please sign here?"  
  
He handed Jesse a small device with a green screen and a pen, and Jesse signed on the display. The deliverer gave him a small package and left.  
  
Stepping back into the living room, Jesse opened the package. It contained a tiny Dictaphone that obviously worked digitally and without a cassette. Jesse sat down on the couch and pressed the "play" button.  
  
"Hello Jesse, this is your father. When you hear this message, I'll already be abroad, as there is a job that has to be done. I will tell you about it when I come back. I'm very sorry that I can't be there when you receive your award, but my assignment is extraordinarily important. I want you to know that I'm very proud of you. This message will delete itself in five seconds, but you can keep the Dictaphone if you want to."  
  
A short laugh sounded from the device, then a low squealing could be heard. When Jesse pressed "play" again, the Dictaphone remained silent.  
  
Jesse leaned back. His father couldn't have been serious about this! The last person who meant so much to him had now also left him alone. Great, he would be holding his speech in front of a bunch of strangers. Okay, those people were there partly because of his work - after all, he was the one to receive the award. But of all people, his friends and family were the ones to stay away because of their jobs. As if there was nobody else who could help out for this one important evening!  
  
He looked at his watch. Still way more than two and a half hours until he had to leave for the hall. He had to get out and do something - he couldn't just sit here and let the anger and disappointment drag him down. If he hurried, he could drive to the beach and surf a bit. This exertion would calm him down, and beside that, a glance out of the window showed him that a heavy wind guaranteed great waves.  
  
Quickly Jesse changed into his short wetsuit and donned a t-shirt and cut- off blue jeans. Grabbing his surfboard, he went downstairs and to his car.  
  
* * *  
  
Taking a deep breath, he rammed his board into the sand. What a great day to go surfing! The wind had become even stronger, and the waves came in six feet and higher.  
  
There were hardly any people at the beach except from Jesse. He had chosen a quiet spot, and it wasn't warm enough to really enjoy a swim in the ocean. The only other people around were two surfers who obviously didn't have much experience, as they spent more time in the water than anywhere else.  
  
Jesse took his shirt, pants and shoes off, grabbed his board and steered towards the water.  
  
It was cool, but not cold enough to be unpleasant. The surf was fantastic, and it was quite an effort to paddle out as far as he wanted to. When he was standing on his board, the strain was completely forgotten.  
  
A big wave took him back to the beach, knocking him off the board as it broke. Two seconds later, he had his head back over water, uttering a triumphant scream. Tossed around by the waves, he climbed back onto his surfboard and paddled out again.  
  
Thus he spent almost an hour on and in the water, and sometimes he even forgot about his anger and frustration. He was already far more exhausted than he had planned, but now he intended to use every single minute he had left until the celebration.  
  
* * *  
  
"As the trace was cold, those of you who don't have their regular shift now are dismissed. The rest - back to work." Captain Newman motioned the police officers to leave.  
  
Steve sighed. All this trouble for nothing. He loved to be called to the headquarters just to discuss a useless clue for an hour and then be sent home again. At least he now had enough time to take a shower and change clothes before he went to Cooper Hall. He decided to call Jesse up and tell him that he'd come; he had sounded very disappointed on the phone.  
  
Steve went over to his desk, took the receiver and dialled. Nobody answered, and pensively, Steve hung up. Jesse couldn't have been so nervous that he had driven to the hall two hours before the awarding started.  
  
With a shrug, he went down to the car. He would drop by at Jesse's place and see what he was doing, maybe ask the landlord where he had gone.  
  
When he arrived at the house, it started drizzling, and the wind blew the rain right into Steve's face. He hurried into the house and went upstairs to Jesse's apartment. After ringing a few times, he concluded that Jesse wasn't at home, and he went down to the landlord's apartment. Something told him that Jesse wouldn't probably just cruise through the streets before an event that was so important to him.  
  
A short man with hardly any hair left on his head, dressed in brown trousers and a checked shirt, opened the door. "Yes?"  
  
"Hello. I'm looking for Jesse Travis, who lives in apartment 212. He's not at home; do you have any idea where he might have gone?"  
  
The man scratched his head. "Yes, I saw how he left with his surfboard. Sometimes I think he's crazy. I mean, look at the weather outside, I bet the beach isn't safe. If I were you, I'd search him and tell him to get out of the water. A thunderstorm is about to hit the coast, and if he was clever, he'd already have come back."  
  
"Okay, thanks. I'll see if I can find him."  
  
Steve left the house. The landlord had been right, this weather wasn't exactly ideal for surfing. He heaved a sigh and started his car's engine. He only hoped that Jesse hadn't acted like this just because he had told him that he and his father wouldn't come to the celebration.  
  
* * *  
  
Jesse was in the water again, clinging to his board, when he noticed that the two other surfers were gone and he was now alone at the beach. He frowned and looked up into the sky where dark clouds had gathered to threatening clusters. A while ago, it had started to rain, and although he didn't care from which direction he got wet, he felt a bit uncomfortable. The waves had become even higher and hit the beach with much more force than before. It seemed like it was about time to get out of the water, but he wanted to catch another big wave before he had to go to the hall where he'd spend his evening alone.  
  
Heavily panting, he climbed back on his board and steered out towards the open sea. His arms ached, and he reckoned that he'd have really sore muscles tomorrow, but if this hadn't been worth it, he didn't know what would have.  
  
He was quite far away from the beach when he saw a great wave coming his way. He prepared to stand up, but when he watched the wave approaching him, he became tense. This thing was bigger than he had expected, and it was already about to break. His common sense told him to get away, and he stood up on his board, trying to catch a smaller wave and get back to the beach.  
  
Although the movement almost made him lose his balance, he glanced back over his shoulder and saw the surge rushing his way, rolling over smaller waves and growing even higher as it did so.  
  
Cowering on the board, he tried to escape the surge, but another look offered a frightening view at a dark green wall towering above him.  
  
In the next instant, the wave had caught up with him. For a second, he thought he'd make it. He actually managed to keep standing, and he tried to change his direction to escape it to the right.  
  
This idea came a split second too late.  
  
The wave broke and crashed over him with violent force. When Jesse noticed that it would strike him, he tried to get away from his board as the hard material meant even more risk to him now, but before he could jump, the wave washed him off the board, and he was hurled into the water.  
  
When he fell, his head hit the board, and black spots darkened his sight. Being pressed under water, he tried not to pass out, as he knew he would definitely drown if he didn't manage to find the way back to the beach.  
  
Fighting the dizziness, he gazed around in the green silence around him. He realized that he was still underwater, and with weak movements, he tried to find his way to the surface. The hit had pressed the air out of his lungs, and now they demanded to be filled with something. If he didn't get to the surface soon, this something would most likely be water.  
  
Pulling himself together, he swam with desperate strokes, with aching head and lungs and now trying to suppress the urge to breathe as well as a strong nausea.  
  
Suddenly his hands touched sand. He lost two more valuable seconds trying to figure out what this meant. Then he realized that he had swum into the wrong direction. Even now it didn't come to his mind to just exhale and follow the bubbles. Instead, he turned around, helplessly moving his arms and legs without really bringing distance between himself and the seabed.  
  
Lost in the depths of the dark water, he now no longer could resist the dizziness. His lungs were on fire, and he was too weak to even try and swim. He knew that he was actually drowning, but this certainty didn't calm him down like he had somehow expected. Instead, his panic increased until he thought he would go crazy before he died.  
  
Then a gracious black veil fell in front of his eyes, and the last bit of power left his body. Surrendering to the waters swaying his body, Jesse passed out.  
  
* * *  
  
Steve pulled over when he saw Jesse's car. Getting out of his truck, he went down the beach, looking for a sign where Jesse might be.  
  
Soon he spotted an abandoned heap of clothes on the sand. He approached them and recognized Jesse's t-shirt. Now a bit worried, he gazed at the surf, but couldn't see anybody in the water.  
  
He stepped closer to the waterline and looked at the foaming waves. Suddenly, he saw Jesse's neon green surfboard close to the shore. The big snakehead pictured on it seemed to return Steve's gaze, but Jesse was nowhere in sight.  
  
"Oh my God!" Steve spurted to the spot where he had seen the board and went into the water. "Jesse!" he called. "Jess, where are you?" A surge nearly knocked him off his feet, and he made a few steps backward. "Jesse!" he shouted.  
  
He heard no reply but the roaring of the waves. Then something appeared drifting about fifteen yards from the beach. Steve blinked the rainwater out of his eyes and stared at the black spot in the green, boiling mass of the water. It looked like a man in a wetsuit, and although Steve wasn't sure about it, he didn't waste any time pondering if he was right. He ran forward until the water got to deep, then he dived through the next wave.  
  
With powerful strokes, he struggled with the enormous force of the ocean until he had reached what he had seen from the shore. He had been right, the black spot had been the neoprene of a wetsuit. Coughing out saltwater, Steve seized the body and dragged it over to him. When he lifted the man's head out of the water, he recognized that it really was Jesse.  
  
The limp body in a tight grasp, Steve let the waves carry him back to the beach. When he felt solid ground below his feet, he stumbled forward until they were safely out of the water.  
  
He dropped Jesse to the ground and checked his vital signs. Jesse wasn't breathing, and Steve couldn't feel a pulse, either. "Don't you dare die now", Steve whispered and bent Jesse's head back.  
  
"Come on", he said as he started CPR. When he forced his own breath down into Jesse's lungs, he noticed how terribly cold his friend's face was.  
  
A young couple that had strolled down the beach hurried towards them. "What's up?" the man asked.  
  
"Call an ambulance! Do you have a phone?"  
  
The man shook his head.  
  
"I have one in my car. The truck over there. Move it, we need help here!"  
  
The young man darted up the beach, and his girlfriend kneeled beside Jesse. "Can I help?" she asked.  
  
Steve nodded. "You administer mouth-to-mouth, I do the heart massage."  
  
Doggedly, Steve worked until he heard the siren of an ambulance car whine. The girl gave him a look from eyes as grey as the sky. "He's still not breathing", she said desperately. "I don't think he'll make it."  
  
"I don't want to hear that", Steve replied gruffly, blinking rainwater from his eyes. "Keep the work up until the paramedics are here."  
  
Half a minute later, two paramedics rushed along the beach. Steve and the girl stepped back to give them space to work. After a brief check, one of the men looked up at Steve. "How long has he been like that?" he asked.  
  
"I - I don't know", Steve answered. "I pulled him out of the water a few minutes ago, but I have no idea how long he's been in there."  
  
The paramedics exchanged an enigmatic glance and opened a red box. One of them cut Jesse's wetsuit open, and the other prepared the two paddles of the cardiac stimulation device.  
  
"Clear." The paramedic put the paddles on Jesse's chest and triggered them.  
  
The other checked his pulse and shook his head. "Nothing. Next try."  
  
"Clear."  
  
"I believe I feel something. Plug him to the ECG."  
  
Soon the electrodes were attached, and the portable monitor showed irregular peaks.  
  
"Another shot!"  
  
"Okay, I think we have him back. Let's get him to the hospital."  
  
"But he's not stable."  
  
The paramedic gave his young colleague a dark glance. "Do you want to wait until he is? Let's go!"  
  
They lifted Jesse onto a stretcher and hurried back to the ambulance car.  
  
Steve turned to the couple. "Thanks for your help. I don't know what I'd have done without you."  
  
The girl pressed his hand. "He'll be fine, I'm sure. But I think you want to drive to the hospital."  
  
Steve nodded. "Thanks."  
  
He turned and dashed up to his car. While he was driving to the hospital, he took the cell phone the young man had dropped on the seat. His father was still in surgery, but Amanda should be in the pathology.  
  
"Amanda, this is Steve. I'm on my way to the Community General. They're taking Jesse to the ER."  
  
"Why? What happened?"  
  
"He went surfing, and something must have happened. I found him in the water -"  
  
"Is he alive?"  
  
"They revived him, but I don't know how he's doing. Could you have a look if Dad is still in surgery? I'd like to have him there when Jesse arrives."  
  
"Okay. I'm on my way upstairs."  
  
"Thanks. Bye."  
  
* * *  
  
"How is he doing?" Steve looked through the window into the ICU room in which Jesse quietly lay on a bed.  
  
Mark swayed his head. "You saved his life, but we don't know how long he's been in the water. Even after you found him, almost ten minutes passed until he was revived. The lack of oxygen might have caused brain damage."  
  
"What does that mean?"  
  
"I don't know. Maybe he'll be completely alright, but it's possible that he'll never be the same again when he wakes up - if he wakes up."  
  
"If?"  
  
Mark laid a hand on his son's shoulder. "It's too early to tell something, Steve. All I can say is that he's in a coma, and it will take him a lot of willpower to find his way back to us. Let's wait what the night brings."  
  
"Can I go to him?"  
  
"Sure. He'll know that you are with him. I will drop by as often as I can."  
  
* * *  
  
Jesse opened his eyes. The room in which he was lying seemed vaguely familiar to him, but at first he couldn't tell from where he knew it. Then he realized that it belonged to the Intensive Care Unit of the Community General. But what was he doing here?  
  
The answer came to him immediately - the beach! He had gone surfing after his friends and family one after another had told him that they wouldn't be able to attend the CEP Award celebration, and he had nearly drowned. Somebody had to have found and rescued him.  
  
The door opened, and Steve came inside. With a sad expression on his face, he pulled a chair over to him and sat down beside the bed.  
  
"Hi Steve", Jesse said. "Can you tell me what happened?"  
  
Steve didn't reply but only looked at him with the same concerned and worried expression.  
  
"Steve. Hey, what's up? Why don't you answer me?"  
  
"Because he can't hear you", a familiar voice replied.  
  
Jesse turned his head and saw a figure standing in a dark corner of the room. "What do you mean? Who are you? I think I've seen you before."  
  
"I mean what I said: He can't hear you. Nobody can, except for me. They can't hear or see me, either. As for the other question - I do hope you know me, but you haven't talked to me very much recently." The man, dressed in a grey tuxedo, stepped out of the shadows, and with horrified surprise, Jesse looked into his own eyes.  
  
"What - who are you?"  
  
"Well, the easiest answer would probably be that I'm you. But I'm not sure you'd understand this, so let's put it in different terms. You could say that I'm your conscience."  
  
"My what?"  
  
"You're a bit uncomprehending tonight, friend", his double replied. "Do you remember the cartoons you loved as a child and still like to watch? With a little angel and a little devil sitting on each shoulder of someone?"  
  
"And which one are you?"  
  
"I'm both. You know, you can't really put me into a drawer."  
  
"What do you want? Why are you here? And what's wrong with me?"  
  
"So many questions", the other one grinned. "Don't you want to get up? I feel a bit silly talking to you when you're lying on that bed."  
  
Jesse wanted to contradict, but then he lifted his head. When he noticed that he could move easily, he sat up and put his feet on the ground. He made a few steps away from the bed and then looked back.  
  
The sight made him freeze again - he saw himself lying on the bed, with needles sticking in his arms and electrodes on his chest and head.  
  
"A funny feeling, huh?"  
  
Jesse looked at his doppelganger. "Just tell me what is going on!"  
  
"Still the little hothead", came the reply. "Okay, let me explain. You spent a bit too much time underwater, and although Steve pulled you out, you're now in a coma. Now it's up to you to decide if you want to wake up."  
  
"Or?"  
  
"Leave your body - completely. It's your choice."  
  
"Okay. I want to wake up", Jesse replied quickly.  
  
His double laughed. "No, it's not that easy. You must want it."  
  
"I do."  
  
"No, *really* want it. I mean, what drove you to spend that much time surfing in this rough weather? You knew that it was dangerous, and you knew that you were too exhausted to ride yet another wave. No, don't try to contradict. I know you better than you know yourself. I'm part of you, Jess."  
  
"Okay, so maybe I was taking some risks. So what?"  
  
"Unless you're completely sure and sincerely convinced that you want to wake up, you won't. You will have to decide, and until you do, I will be with you, just like I've always been - with the difference that you can't suppress me. Now talk to me - being honest to me means being honest to yourself. As long as you lie at yourself, you won't be able to make this decision. So again, why did you have this suicidal idea?"  
  
"If you're really so smart, you already know", Jesse said defiantly.  
  
"I do. The problem is that you don't admit it. You've been hiding your feelings from yourself for a while, friend. I'm here to help you bring some unconscious and unpleasant emotions to the light of day."  
  
"Okay, so what do you want to hear? That I'm pissed because nobody I love wanted to come to that awarding? That after years, finally my work is recognized, and nobody seems to give a damn? That I'm fed up with being the clown for everyone, being regarded as the child who's only good for giving silly comments?"  
  
His Conscience gave him a friendly smile. "Very good for the beginning", he replied. "Let it out, I'll listen to you."  
  
Jesse returned a helpless look. "What do you want me to start with?"  
  
"Whatever you want."  
  
Jesse dropped to the ground, leaning against the wall. "Sometimes I feel so left out", he said.  
  
His double squatted down in front of him and nodded encouragingly. "Go on."  
  
"My parents don't seem to realize that I actually have made something of my life. My mother wants me to be like her, work in her practice, with six weeks holiday a year. Six weeks! One should think that this would give her the time to come over to LA for a day or two. Who is she to tell me what my life should look like? At least she could respect my work. She as a doctor should know how important it is to see one's achievements appreciated. And my dad - until two years ago, I didn't even know what he does for a living. Okay, maybe what he does is important, although I'm not always sure if it's right. Hell, he kills people while I'm trying to save lives. I hardly see him, and even now, another mission is more important than his son. I don't think they'd notice if I was suddenly gone."  
  
Jesse had now warmed up. "Nobody seems to take me seriously", he continued. "I mean, sometimes I want to go like, 'hello, see this? I have a medical degree, folks!' All the others tend to regard me as some kind of student who keeps showing up at the hospital. Do you remember when this man had his heart attack in the parking garage? Oh, of course you do. They didn't believe me until they saw the corpse for themselves. I remember Mark's patronizing comments, talking to me like to a tired child. It hasn't changed a bit since then. Whenever I come up with an idea concerning an investigation, everybody first takes it as a joke before they start thinking about it seriously. Or take this horrible time when I thought I'd been abducted by aliens. Okay, that wasn't exactly what had happened, but the others thought I'd had a nervous breakdown, and then even suspected me being on drugs."  
  
"You were."  
  
Jesse looked at his double. "Ha-ha", he said sarcastically. "You know exactly what I mean. Or Chloe, yuk. When she stalked me, Mark actually thought I was cheating on Susan, although I never would have done this. Man, since Norman left the hospital, I've been the fool for everyone." He paused. "But maybe they're all right", he then said. "I mean, who'd need me? Who'd miss me? My parents don't care for me at all, and without me standing in the way all the time, Mark, Steve and Amanda would probably solve any case a lot faster. So what reason would I have to live?"  
  
His double nodded. "Now you're talking. But remember that I represent both parts of your conscience. I made you think about all your anger and frustration, your hurt ego. Now it's time to show you the other side."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I know that 'A Christmas Carol' by Charles Dickens really impressed you when you were younger", replied his Conscience. "So let's say I'll take the part of all three spirits. The spirit of the past, present and future Christmas." He chuckled. "I will take you on a little journey, don't be afraid. Come on, take my hand."  
  
Jesse hesitated, but then took the hand his double offered him.  
  
"Where are we going?" he asked.  
  
Mark opened the door and entered the room.  
  
"Into the past", replied Jesse's double. He led him towards Mark who was standing in front of the bed. When Jesse realized that they were going to bump into him, he wanted to change direction, but his doppelganger gently shoved him forward, and he stumbled right into the older man.  
  
It was a weird feeling; Jesse didn't hit Mark but slid right through him, or rather into him, as something kept him standing at the same spot where Mark stood. He looked at his own body on the bed, and suddenly, the surrounding changed.  
  
It was a similar room, but the person on the bed was somebody else. It was Steve, being kept alive only by machines and the love of his father who was sitting beside him. Jesse swallowed when he recognized the wounds on Steve's body. He'd never forget how he had been brought to the ER after Tony Danza's hired assassin had shot him in a restaurant.  
  
He looked down and noticed that he was wearing the t-shirt and jeans he had left at the beach. His Conscience was standing beside him. "Why are you showing me this?" Jesse asked.  
  
"You'll see in a minute", his double answered.  
  
Then the door opened, and Jesse saw himself come inside, greeting Mark with a nod, opening Steve's eyelid and shining a light in it.  
  
"He's completely unresponsive?" Mark asked.  
  
"We're keeping close watch", came Jesse's concerned reply.  
  
Mark lifted his head and gave Jesse a look full of desperate hope. "It could just be the anaesthetic."  
  
Jesse's look didn't show optimism when he replied, "that's what we're hoping. But we've got to be prepared for the worst. Because the longer he's unresponsive -"  
  
"- the less chance he'll recover", Mark finished the sentence.  
  
"I wish I could lie to you, Mark", said Jesse, "tell you I knew everything was going to be fine."  
  
"I wish you could, too", Mark replied sadly. He paused. "This is the only time I've ever hated being a doctor", he then continued.  
  
Jesse put his hand on Mark's shoulder, when suddenly a commotion arose in the hall. Jesse briefly patted Mark's shoulder and left the room.  
  
Mark looked at his son and sighed. "You'll make it", he said. "I know you're fighting, and you'll make it. If there's a doctor who can save you, it's Jesse. Don't you let us down, do you hear me?"  
  
"Do you understand?" Jesse's double asked. "You saved his life, and neither Mark nor Steve will ever forget this."  
  
Jesse bowed his head. "Every other surgeon would have been able to help him."  
  
"Oh no, don't be so sure about this. You had to cope with Mark wanting to help although he wasn't in the condition to, and you had to operate on your friend, unsure if he would make it. This was enormous mental stress, and only few if any people in this hospital would have done so well under these circumstances."  
  
"Wait a minute - why do I see things I can impossibly remember because I wasn't there? I mean, I was here for a few seconds, but I didn't hear what Mark said to Steve."  
  
"These are Mark's memories, friend. You're experiencing what he went through. You see, you need to live through certain events seeing someone else's point of view. There are lots of things you didn't notice in the past few years. Come on, there's more."  
  
Jesse took his double's hand again, and they went out on the corridor. Soon they approached Amanda who was standing at the reception desk. Jesse gave his Conscience an asking glance. The other one nodded, and they stepped into Amanda.  
  
* * *  
  
In the next instant, Jesse found himself in front on the beach house. The place was crowded with police officers, ambulance cars and people in yellow plastic suits with helmets. In one of them, he recognized Amanda, walking towards the house with this man - what had been his name? Right, Peter.  
  
"Come, we'll follow them inside", said his double.  
  
"How is he doing?" was Amanda's first question when she entered the house.  
  
"He's been unconscious for 15 minutes", replied Mark, and Jesse looked at the couch where he saw himself again, taking shallow breaths, covered with cold sweat and pale as chalk.  
  
While Mark and Peter were talking, Amanda sat down on the couch and took some blood from him.  
  
Jesse circled the couch and watched Amanda working. 'Don't worry', he heard her voice, 'we'll bust this bastard.' He frowned. Amanda hadn't moved her lips while talking. He gave his double an asking look.  
  
"These are her thoughts", he replied.  
  
Jesse nodded comprehendingly. Mark had told him how they had conned Peter into giving away the place where he had hidden the serum against the mutated smallpox.  
  
Amanda stood up, and with a quick movement, she rammed the contaminated needle into Peter's arm. "Oh, I'm sorry", she said with feigned panic in her voice, "I slipped."  
  
With a mixture of anger, worry and amusement, she listened to Peter's stuttered excuses to get out of the house. When he had darted outside, she exchanged a content look with Mark.  
  
'I just hope Steve will bring the serum in time', she thought and sadly regarded the small figure lying on the couch.  
  
"Can you feel how concerned they are about your health?" the Conscience asked, and Jesse nodded. He remembered Amanda having tears in her eyes when she had talked to him earlier that day.  
  
Together they waited for Steve to return with the antidote, and when he arrived, his double motioned Jesse to step towards him. Preparing for another sudden change of the surrounding, Jesse did as he'd been told.  
  
* * *  
  
He found himself standing in his own apartment, and again, he saw himself. He was cowering behind a barricade of chairs and other pieces of furniture, unshaved and frightened, looking at the door in horror when somebody knocked. Then the person outside went over to the back door and opened it with a knife.  
  
Jesse shuddered as the events of these days came to his mind again. It was really weird watching himself with the baseball bat, and he admired Steve's fast reactions as he dodged the hit that could have hurt him seriously.  
  
This time, he didn't hear anybody's thoughts, but he felt Steve's confusion and worry. A wave of emotions swept over to him when Steve talked to him and listened to his talk about the strangers in his apartment - confusion, the wish to understand, the urge to find out what had happened; helplessness, the doubt if his friend was going insane or if he had really been stalked by aliens of any kind, and over all, deep concern and the wish to help.  
  
Jesse went over to the table and sat down on the tabletop. His double followed him and crossed his arms as he stood in front of him with an expecting look.  
  
"So?" his Conscience said. "Did this make you think?"  
  
Jesse nodded and looked at the man in the grey tuxedo. "No matter what they sometimes say or what they do, they are my friends. But I don't believe anybody really *needs* me."  
  
"Be patient, this is something I'll show you later. Now we'll have a look at another of Steve's memories."  
  
* * *  
  
Jesse felt wet sand below his bare feet, and a strong wind tousled his hair. He recognized the beach as it had looked like this afternoon. Behind them, a truck stopped, and Steve climbed out. Looking around, he walked down the beach. Then he saw Jesse's clothes lying on the sand, and after another glance around, his expression became concerned.  
  
After he had stared at the ocean for a while, his eyes suddenly widened. He stepped into the water, calling Jesse's name. Another few seconds later, he suddenly dashed into the waves, not bothering to rid himself of his shoes or jacket first.  
  
When he returned to the beach, he was dragging Jesse's limp body along, kneeling down beside him as he slid him to the ground. After checking his vital signs, he desperately shook his head and started his attempts to revive Jesse.  
  
When a young woman helped Steve while her friend was running up to the truck, Jesse curiously stepped closer. Not wasting a single look at his own body, he squatted beside Steve and regarded his face. He didn't need to receive his friend's thoughts or emotions now to know what he felt. Heavily breathing as he did the heart massage, Steve blinked unusually often, and Jesse realized that it wasn't only rainwater running down his cheeks.  
  
* * *  
  
Without a warning, the beach vanished, and instead, they were standing in the garden of a small house. A woman in her late 20s was sitting on a bench with a baby on her lap, a man of about the same age stood a few feet away and took photos of them.  
  
"Mom! Dad!" Jesse went towards them and regarded the peaceful image.  
  
"You were their anchor", his Conscience said. "And you still are. Their marriage broke up, but this feeling is somehow left in both of them. There's no chance to bring them together again, but you're the one who can create those moments of joy and love, of belonging together, for you and your parents. But let's get back to the hospital - you'd be surprised who's waiting there."  
  
* * *  
  
In the next instant, they were standing in the hospital room again. His parents sat beside his bed, his mother leaning her head against his father's shoulder. This was such an unusual picture for Jesse that he had to look twice. His mother, the iron lady who could achieve anything she wanted to, who could let people act just the way she liked to, actually showed this kind of feelings.  
  
"How did they get here so fast?" Jesse turned to his double.  
  
"Fast? You've been lying here for two days", he replied.  
  
"What? Two days?"  
  
"Time's not necessarily a constant, friend." His doppelganger smiled. "But don't worry, I won't need much more time. Come on, let's have a look at the Emergency Room."  
  
Jesse let his double drag him out on the corridor and over to the Emergency entry. Two paramedics were just rushing in with a gurney. "Twelve more are on their way", one of them shouted. "There was a fire in the Chandler Hotel, and some idiot locked the emergency exit of the ball room."  
  
Dr. Jackson, who was now the doctor in charge of the ER, wiped his forehead. "Okay, he has second degree burns and a smoke poisoning. Get him into Treatment 2, and cancel any surgeries that aren't more urgent than this."  
  
"That's all?" Jesse called. "Jackson, you moron! He said there were twelve more people coming. See that you get a helicopter, and transport the serious cases to the specialists at LA Central. Do you call this organization?" He turned to his double. "Why are you showing me this? Do you want to torment me? I can't do anything about this, so why do I have to see this?"  
  
"Oh, you can do something about it. You have seen the past and present Christmas, and right now, I'm showing you the future. You thought nobody appreciated your work. Well, there are many people who actually owe you their lives. Now tell me what's more important to you - your family and friends witnessing how you get an award for your work, or the direct feedback, this good feeling to know that you can help people? Dropping by in their rooms a few days later, seeing that they will be all fine again? Some of them won't even recognize you because they were unconscious when they were brought here, but do you mind? I don't think so. And getting a homeless woman a job, giving your old toys to her boy and looking after him while she has her interview doesn't necessarily belong to your job as an ER surgeon. Face it, Jess. You don't work for yourself, you work for others. Could you leave all these people to their fate?"  
  
Slowly, Jesse shook his head. "No."  
  
His double stepped behind him and kept talking. "Now I think you have seen enough. It's time for you to make your decision. Do you want to wake up, cope with whatever life will bring you - anger, negligence, frustration, joy, happiness, love?"  
  
"I'm not gonna leave them alone. Not my family, not my friends, not my patients. I want to live."  
  
Suddenly, he felt a tingle in his whole body, and his Conscience's voice sounded inside his head. "We are one. I am you, don't forget this. You admitted your feelings to yourself, so don't start lying at us again. Be honest with yourself, and try to tell others what bothers you. You'll be amazed how many of them will listen to you."  
  
The tingle got stronger until it started to become unpleasant, and dizziness seized Jesse. The echo of his Conscience's voice still reverberated in his head, and he closed his eyes.  
  
Suddenly, the world seemed to turn upside down. With a surprised gasp, Jesse grabbed for a hold, and felt a big hand taking his.  
  
"It's okay, everything's alright", he heard Steve's voice. "Dad, come over here! I think he's waking up!"  
  
He heard quick steps and then Mark's voice. "It might have been a spontaneous reflex", he said, and a second later, Jesse felt him touch his right eyelid. The beam of a small flashlight was pointed at his eye, and with a moan, Jesse turned his head away from the piercing light. "Ah", Mark said. "This looks encouraging. Jesse, can you hear me?"  
  
Jesse slowly opened his eyes, the usually dim light in the room now seemingly gleaming white. After a few seconds, he spotted two men standing by his bed: Steve and Mark.  
  
Mark smiled at him. "Welcome back", he said. "You slept for quite a while, Jesse. We were a little bit concerned."  
  
Jesse's head and ribs ached. He wanted to sit up, but his muscles didn't obey. "How long?" he whispered.  
  
"Three days and four nights", Steve replied.  
  
"Good", Jesse answered. After what his Conscience had told him, he had already feared a much longer time. He looked at Steve. "You saved me."  
  
Steve returned a surprised glance. "How do you know?"  
  
"He showed me."  
  
Steve's expression became even more puzzled. "Who?"  
  
"The Conscience. Ah, you can't see him anyway, forget it."  
  
Steve gave Mark a concerned look, but he shook his head. "Jesse", he said, "you need rest now. We'll come back later and look after you, okay?"  
  
Jesse nodded and closed his eyes, and this time, he fell to a sound sleep.  
  
Mark and Steve left the room. "What was he talking about?" Steve wanted to know. "Could that be a sign for a brain damage?"  
  
"No, don't worry. If there had been any permanent damage, he probably wouldn't have been able to talk or move. He's been in a coma for more than three days, and who knows what he has seen during this time. You'll see, in the afternoon he'll be quite himself again."  
  
* * *  
  
When Jesse woke up, he was feeling a lot better. With a yawn, he stretched his arms and looked around in the empty room. His aching limbs and head told him that he was back inside his body, and he was sincerely glad about this.  
  
The door opened, and Amanda came inside, a broad smile spreading on her face when she saw that Jesse was awake. "Hi", she said, went over to his bed and took his hand. "How are you doing?"  
  
"Never been better", replied Jesse.  
  
"You really made us worry, Jesse", Amanda said with an affectionate smile.  
  
"I know. I'm sorry."  
  
"No, don't say that. There's nothing you'd have to be sorry for."  
  
"I didn't mean to cause so much trouble", Jesse said in a tired voice.  
  
"You didn't. We were only hoping that you'd recover soon. Your parents are in the hospital, I will call them and tell them that you woke up. They'll be glad to hear this."  
  
"Okay. Thanks." Jesse looked at the ceiling. This little chat had made his lungs hurt, and he felt like he'd been running a marathon.  
  
Minutes later, his parents entered the room. They both stood at the same side of the bed, and his mother took Jesse's hand. "It's so good to have you back", she said.  
  
"Mom, Dad, you're here", Jesse whispered. "Good to see you."  
  
His father touched his shoulder. "We came as fast as we could. I can't tell you how glad I am to see that you're doing better."  
  
"Thanks to you all. You were here, you cared." Jesse gave his parents a weak smile, his eyes full of love.  
  
* * *  
  
Two weeks later, they all gathered in the BBQ Bob's. Jesse had recovered quickly after he had awakened from the coma, and this was his last day off before he would take over his job again.  
  
"Wait here", Amanda told Jesse and hurried to the kitchen.  
  
"We've got something for you", Steve added with a grin. He offered Jesse a chair, and Jesse sat down. "You missed the big party", Steve continued, "so we thought we'd make up for this now."  
  
They were sitting at a big table, and now Amanda returned with a plate, on which an object, covered by a napkin, stood.  
  
"Tadaah", she said and stood like the female model presenting the prizes in a TV game show.  
  
Mark cleared his throat and stood up. "Ladies and Gentlemen", he said and lifted his glass. "We have gathered here to honour the work of an amazing young surgeon who led the Emergency Room of the Community General Hospital so well that it has developed to the best and fastest ER in California. Dr. Jesse Travis, I want you to receive the California Emergency Physicians' ER of the Year Award, in appreciation of your remarkable achievements." He nodded, and Amanda lifted the napkin from the plate.  
  
Mark took the award, a 7-inch high roundish object made of glass and copper, and solemnly handed it to Jesse.  
  
Jesse rose from his chair, blushing as he turned the award in his hands. "You know", he said, "I prepared a speech for the celebration, but somehow those words wouldn't describe what I'm feeling right now. Being together with you, my family and friends, means a lot more to me than this piece of glass, although it'll look damned good in the doctors' lounge." The others laughed. "I want you to know how important you're all to me. It's hard to explain, but you're the reason why I'm here today. Your support helped me very much in the past weeks. I don't know what I would have done without you."  
  
For a few seconds, silence filled the room, then Jesse's mother stood up and hugged him. "I'm so proud of you", she said and gently ran a hand through his hair. "You're doing very important work here."  
  
"Group hug", Amanda announced, and with a grin, Jesse went over to her an embraced her.  
  
"There you go", he said. Then he turned to the others. "So, are we going to get something to eat here?"  
  
* * *  
  
Jesse stood in an empty room in the ICU and caught himself almost tenderly touching a heart-lung machine. How he had missed working here!  
  
A shiver went down his spine when he suddenly remembered what his Conscience had showed him for the future. He'd soon have a rush of burn wound victims, but he didn't know when. 'Hey, wait a minute', he thought. He knew where it would happen. There would be a fire in the Chandler Hotel, and those people would get hurt because the emergency exit didn't open. A glance at his watch showed him that it was almost time for his lunch break, so he hurried down into the parking garage and drove to the hotel.  
  
At the reception, he demanded to be led to the ballroom. "I have reason to suppose that your safety precautions, especially concerning fire prevention, are insufficient", he said, trying to sound as official as possible.  
  
Looking at his white coat, OR clothes and hospital ID card, the porter shrugged and guided him to the ballroom in which a group of about 150 people, dressed in distinguished wardrobe, were standing, some of them dancing to slow music, others chatting.  
  
Jesse didn't care for the amazed glances but headed towards the back door. He tried it and noticed that it was locked. He turned to the porter who had followed him. "Do you have a key to this door?"  
  
The porter nodded.  
  
"So why is the door locked? Do you see this sign? It is an emergency exit and must not be locked."  
  
The porter shrugged. "This door has never been used. If we don't lock it, we'll have people running outside and back all the time."  
  
"Well, unlock it now!"  
  
The man did as he was told  
  
In this instant, an alarm siren started to whine, and Jesse smelled smoke. All of a sudden, flames started licking on the walls, obviously coming from somewhere at the buffet. People uttered screams of surprise and fear, and Jesse realized that he had to do something to avoid a panic.  
  
He jumped on a table. "Ladies and Gentlemen", he called. "You have to leave this room, but don't take the front door. It's too dangerous to make your way through the fire. Please come over here and use the emergency exit. Stay calm, you have plenty of time. Nothing will happen if you simply follow my instructions."  
  
Although their fear was obvious, the party guests did as Jesse told them and slowly left the room through the back door. Jesse was the last to go, closing the door behind him.  
  
When they were all outside, the sirens of fire engines sounded. Jesse heaved a relieved sigh. This had been close. He turned away from the door and looked directly into a woman's face that seemed familiar to him.  
  
Two seconds passed as they gazed at each other. "The beach", Jesse then said when the face appeared in a different surrounding in front of his inner eye.  
  
"You're the man who nearly drowned", the young woman said in surprise.  
  
"And you helped save my life", Jesse replied, not believing what he saw.  
  
"How can you know?" the woman asked.  
  
Jesse smiled. "A friend told me."  
  
"But how did you recognize me?"  
  
"Let's just say he described you pretty well. I have no idea how I could thank you", Jesse said.  
  
The woman returned an open smile. "You just did. I don't know why you suddenly appeared in the ballroom, but without your initiative, people could have died in there - and I could have been one of them."  
  
Jesse nodded, and when the woman turned to her boyfriend whom she had lost in the crowd and who now hugged her gently, he went down the street, pensively looking at the asphalt.  
  
Had this just been an accident? Or had he been supposed to prevent this disaster? Had there been more about the man who claimed to be his conscience than it had seemed?  
  
However, this incident alone would have been reason enough to wake up from the coma. Jesse beamed with joy as he let the warm sunbeams fall on his face. He loved and was loved, he had the possibility to help other people, give hope to those who had been hurt, and he conducted the best ER in California, with so many others who followed the same call.  
  
Life was great! 


End file.
